The Taxman Killeth by Mary Ann Mitchell

poke around on her own. He might never get another chance to enter her
office unseen. Todd checked the time. “We stay an hour, then we’re out,” he
said.
    Amy agreed and they walked back
into the building. The guard looked up briefly to see Amy returning. He didn’t
bother to check out her guest.
    In front of Stu’s office door,
Amy offered her credit card. Todd ignored her and pulled from within his jacket
a small cloth packet. He eased a narrow steel pick from under the packet’s
flap.
    “What time did he leave?” Todd
asked as the lock gave way.
    “A little after two.”
    “Didn’t I tell you...”
    “Will you be able to open these
file drawers? They seem to be locked, too.”
    Within an hour they located
legal documents used to obtain green cards for immigrants.
    “That’s it,” she shouted.
    “How do we know they aren’t
legit?”
    “Because this firm doesn’t do
immigration law. But now that I think about it, Stu used to be involved in
immigration when he worked in Texas. He’s the one, isn’t he?”
    “We can’t be sure.”
    “He’s been typing and mailing
his own work. Even though he’s not supposed to, he locks his office door. The
firm doesn’t do immigration. He’s the one.”
    “Even if he is, do you think he’s
capable of murder?”
    “I didn’t think he was capable
of swiping pencils from work before we found these papers.”
    Todd put the papers back where
they had found them.
    “Let’s go.”
    “To the police?”
    “Are you crazy?”
    “But we have the evidence.”
    “All we know is that maybe, and
let me emphasize maybe, Stu Lester is dealing with illegal aliens. That’s all
we know.”
    Amy was disappointed. But at
least they had a lead, she consoled herself. She was determined to prove Todd
innocent. She was also uncomfortable knowing she had opened the firm’s books to
a fraud; at least she wanted to prove he wasn’t a murderer.

 
     
     
    Chapter 10
    So, Where Do You Live?
     
    “You’d better get some sleep,”
Todd said, locking the apartment door.
    “It’s almost time for me to get
up.”
    “I’m sorry, Amy. I wish you had
followed my instructions.”
    “Then you wouldn’t have known
who the murderer was.”
    “Stuart Lester may not be the
one who killed Joey.”
    “But the evidence points to him.”
    “Maybe he’s dealing in illegal
alien traffic, then again, what he’s doing could be legit. Besides, I’m not
certain that the person who killed Joey was actually involved with the alien
matter at all.”
    “What should I look for?”
    “What?”
    “Should I copy down all the
names of his clients and anyone who has an appointment with him?”
    “You should mind your own
business.”
    “But ever since you barged into
my apartment uninvited, it’s been my business.”
    “In a few days I’ll be leaving.
And here, you’d better take this hat back.”
    “How can I do that? Just go in
and say I borrowed the hat for an evening? Thank you very much. Anyway, it
looks good on you,” she said, rubbing her hand across the soft brown felt of
the brim.
    Todd grabbed the hat out of her
hands, flinging it on the couch.
    “Go to bed.”
    Miffed, Amy turned away from him
and headed for her bedroom.
    Todd plopped down on the couch.
He wasn’t certain they had found any hard evidence. It seemed to come too
easily, and he didn’t like the chances Amy was willing to take. Todd rubbed his
eyes with the balls of his palms while remembering how crazy he had gotten
earlier in the evening, worrying about where she was and how exposed he may
have left her. He realized he should never have asked for her help. She was too
enticing. It felt too good to be near her. If he hadn’t been so moved by her,
he wouldn’t have gone to the beach the night Joey was murdered. Perhaps he
could have saved his partner’s life. Hell, that was the problem with Amy, she
was too much of a diversion. She channeled his energies into an emotional mode
that could also cost his